


Home Front

by DLoss



Series: Misplaced Adrenaline [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Death Threats, GTA AU, Gun Kink, Gun Violence, Home Invasion, I'm a terrible human, Jeremy just wants to have a nice time, M/M, Police Officer Jeremy, Sort Of, Vagabond Ryan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DLoss/pseuds/DLoss
Summary: Jeremy is busy trying to forget that he's on desk duty. Trying to forget how much Vagabond fucked him over.So when he meets a hot guy at the bar it seems like a good chance to clear his head.





	1. Chapter 1

Jeremy stared at the shot of jager placed in front of him as Gavin arrived back at the table. He glanced at Gavin over his bourbon.

“Really, Gav?” Michael said. “ _Shots_?”

“Well, shot.” Gavin corrected, sitting down with his own beer. “It’s not from me.”

“What?”

Gavin pointed back at the bar over his shoulder. Jeremy leaned slightly to see it.

“Hot guy, blue shirt, long hair.” He said. “Turned me down, asked me to bring this over.” Gavin explained, almost annoyed.

Jeremy scanned the bar and found the man he spoke of, sitting next to a smaller guy, looking out over the bar towards him.

He _was_ hot as shit. He completely understood why Gavin had hit on him. He was broad but soft in the blue button down he had on over his slacks. He was sitting and leaning slightly against the bar, hand barely touching the glass next to his hand. At first his hair looked short, soft around his face, but Jeremy realised it was pushed back and pulled into a braid behind his head.

And he was giving Jeremy a _fucking look_.

He had super blue eyes, obvious even from across the bar, and an intense expression, focused fully on him.

“Jesus dude.” Michael muttered. “I’m gonna arrest him. He’s practically assaulting you with his eyes.”

“Pretty sure he’s a model.” Gavin scowled into his drink.

“You’re just annoyed he turned you down.” Michael laughed.

“Shut up.” Gavin growled. “Lil’J if you don’t do that shot I’m going to.”

Jeremy sighed, he really didn’t need a shot, he was already feeling tipsy, but the guy was giving him _serious_ eyes. So he picked up the shot, threw it back and swallowed through the burn.

“Ahh.” He breathed, washing the taste down with a mouthful of bourbon and coke. For a moment he didn’t look up at the guy, trying to remember that he was a human being with real feelings that he was allowed to have.

“You okay?” Michael asked under his breath.

“I haven’t”- Jeremy hesitated. Michael made an understanding face. He hadn’t really been anywhere with anyone in the three weeks since the bank. Since Vagabond had torn him open with knives in several places, raped him and, worse, given him serious kink issues. For fucks sake the man had jacked him off with _blood_ and Jeremy had cum for him.

Like a good little bitch.

“Forget the bank.” Michael growled at the hesitation and expression on Jeremy’s face, clearly knowing that something was bothering him despite not knowing details. “There’s a hot man across the bar who is _already_ trying to fuck you with his eyes.”

“We should definitely arrest him.” Gavin added. Michael made a dismissing hand at him.

“Jeremy, I’m not saying you have to fuck this guy.” Michael added. “But I think you should go and talk to him. Get out of your own head for a bit.”

Jeremy sighed. He was right. He needed to forget the bank.

“Fine, but don’t leave without me.” He warned.

“Just give us a wave if you need to.” Gavin smiled warmly. “I’m going to be disappointed if you strike out too. I _need_ a description of what he looks like with his top off.”

“God you’re a perv.” Michael accused as Jeremy drained his drink.

“Michael!” Gavin exclaimed, ignoring Jeremy as he straightened, steadied himself and pulled himself together.

“Wish me luck.”

“Luck, dude.” Michael nodded, raising his glass. “We’re right here.”

“Thanks man.” Jeremy tapped him on the shoulder as he passed and headed for the bar. The man must have said something to the guy he was sitting with because the man looked at him, glanced around, smiled and then left. Jeremy moved in to stand just on the other side of the recently vacated chair from the man.

“Evening.” He said. “Thanks for the shot.”

“You looked like you needed a drink.” He replied warmly. His voice oddly familiar, deep and slightly southern.

“Did I?” Jeremy asked, trying to get the bartenders attention. “Because, technically, I already had one.”

The man smiled and _shit_. Jeremy avoided gaping at him by telling the bartender his order, but Christ. His teeth were white and even and his gentle smile was genuine and Jesus Christ, Jeremy. Pull yourself together, you Bi disaster.

“Yeah, but I got you to stop pouting.” The man pointed out. That slammed Jeremy’s mind to a halt. Was he being _teased_ by a guy he barely knew?

“I was _not_ pouting.” Jeremy replied defensively, passing a twenty to the bartender and accepting his new drink. “I was deep in thought.”

“Right.” The man replied with a laugh. “You get a lot of deep thoughts that make you pout?”

“Jesus, dude.” Jeremy replied. “I did not come over here to be teased by a model.”

The other mans turn to look defensive.

“I’m not a model.” He said blankly.

“Really?” Jeremy asked lightly, turning to lean on the bar, facing the seated man fully. “Because you look too pretty to be anything else.”

The smile changed slightly, pulled further to one side, went from warm to gleeful and the man shook his head and held out a hand.

“Ryan.” He said. Jeremy glanced downward at the hand and reached out to shake it.

“Jeremy.” He replied.

“So what were you pouting about?” Ryan asked easily, moving back slightly in his chair to tap the one in front of Jeremy with a foot. Inviting him to sit. Jeremy sighed and climbed onto the chair, resigning himself for flirting with the hot stranger. Life could be worse.

“I wasn’t-” He sighed and then relented. “It’s been a tough few weeks at work.”

“Really?” Ryan asked like it wasn’t the most surprising thing. “What do you do?”

“I’m a cop.” Jeremy said with a sigh.

“I bet that has its tough days.” Ryan replied with understanding in his voice. Jeremy diverted his eyes for a second.

“Yeah.” He agreed, trying hard not to think about said tough days. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Tough day?” Ryan extrapolated.

“Something like that.” Jeremy nodded. IA had been in to question him. Again. Ask why Vagabond had let him live twice now. Again. His answers hadn’t changed over the last few weeks and that was annoying them. He was pretty close to losing his badge.

“That sucks.” Ryan said. “But you got to the end of it in one piece.” He added, a little brighter. “That’s gotta be a win.”

“In this city?” Jeremy sighed. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“What a positive attitude.” Ryan laughed. “You off tomorrow at least?”

“Yeah, got a proper weekend and everything.” Jeremy smiled. “Finally.”

Ryan laughed slightly.

“Well then at least there’s alcohol.” He replied, raising his glass slightly. Jeremy tapped it with his own and took a mouthful of bourbon. He let the burn travel down his throat for a moment before pushing the subject on.

“And you?” He asked. “What do you do?”

Ryan made a dismissing wavy motion with his hand.

“It’s boring.” He admitted. “I’m in IT.”

“Development or support?” Jeremy pressed with a smile. Not about to let him get away with not talking about it. Ryan returned the smile, a hint of surprise on his face.

“Dev.” He admitted. “Security software mostly.”

“I have to say, you do not look like a man that sits at a desk all day.” Jeremy told him, trying not to be too obvious about the glance he gave Ryan down his body. Ryan noticed, and there was a smile on him by the time Jeremy got back to his face.

“No?” Ryan leaned forward a little. “What kind of man do I look like?”

It wasn’t a difficult question to answer. Jeremy had all kinds of charming responses prepared. But Ryan had made it sound like a hell of a lot more than a question. It _felt_ like a life or death decision and Jeremy froze for a long moment. Ryan waiting very patiently for his answer.

Oh, this was dangerous. Jeremy really wanted to sleep with this guy. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol that was _definitely_ starting to affect him, the fact he hadn’t slept with anyone in the weeks since the bank fiasco or the fact that this guy looked like he’d walked out of some kind of calendar… But _shit_ Jeremy was horny right now.

“Honestly?” Jeremy replied eventually. “You look like the kind of guy who knows how to have a good time.”

“Oh, Jeremy.” Ryan replied, that gleeful smile back on his face. “You have no idea.”  

 

Jeremy barely got his door unlocked and his keys on the counter before Ryan was pulling him by the shirt into a kiss, backing him into the counter dividing his living room and kitchen. He was a great kisser, too, and Jeremy was _instantly_ obsessed with his tongue.

Jeremy had spent maybe another fifteen minutes flirting with the man at the bar before Ryan had gently asked if he wanted to head somewhere. Jeremy had suggested his own place before telling Michael and Gavin he was heading out.

The two had given him a knowing smile and congratulations before he’d spent the five minute walk to his house flirting with the guy some more.

“Sorry.” Ryan said into his mouth after they came up to breathe. “Couldn’t resist.” He had such a cute fucking smile that Jeremy forgave him. Had nothing to do with the raging boner he had to get this guy into bed.

“You’re only human.” Jeremy offered in reply and Ryan laughed and pulled him into another kiss. Ryan was taller than him by a good foot, so the man curled over him, leaning him into counter slightly to get his mouth down to meet his and, for a moment, Jeremy enjoyed the sensation.

Ryan moved back with a gentle push and Jeremy smiled and tilted his head towards the hallway.

“C’mon.” He said, holding Ryans hand. His hands were rougher than Jeremy expected, being an IT guy, but the guy clearly worked out. Jeremy really needed to stop trying to expect things. He pulled Ryan through the lounge, down the hall and into his bedroom. He hesitated over the main lights, decided better of it, and then crossed to flick on the bedside lamp.

He looked back around to find Ryan studying the room carefully. His intelligent blue eyes taking in every detail.

“Neater than I expected.” Ryan admitted.

“Do I seem like a slob?” Jeremy asked. Ryan chuckled and moved forward as he responded.

“No.” He said. “But you’re a cop. Most cops are boys,” Ryan stopped just in front of him, running his hands up his arms, “and most boys are messy.”

Jeremy wasn’t quite sure how to counter that logic. He was probably correct.

“Well, I hate to break your stereotyped idea of police officers-”

“You already have.” Ryan assured him quietly.

“-but I am not, as you can see, messy.”

“Right.” Ryan said dryly. “Because you didn’t clean in the hopes of getting lucky.”

Okay, the man had a point, but Jeremy wasn’t about to tell _him_ that. Ryan didn’t give him the chance, either, leaning down to kiss him again, pressing him back a few paces towards the bed. His hands ran down his back and started to pull up on his shirt.

Jeremy froze for a second. Enough to make Ryan pause.

“What is it?” The man asked. Jeremy leaned back a little, trying to think of how to explain himself.

“I…” He hesitated. “I got injured at work.”

Ryan watching him, waiting for more of an explanation.

“A few weeks ago.” Jeremy added. “Just, one’s still dressed and the others are… they don’t look great.” His ribs, his pec and his shoulder were all welted, red, scar tissue developing on his chest. The dressing on his back because Jeremy was not ready to deal with _that_ scarring yet.

Ryan tilted his head slightly.

“I’m not worried about a few scars.” He pointed out calmly. “You want to keep it on? Because I’d really like to see it off.”

Jeremy shook his head slowly. He wanted to take it off, he was fine with taking it off, he just didn’t want to freak the man out. He pulled the shirt over his head and let it slump into a pile on the floor.

“I just didn’t want to surprise you.” Jeremy offered with a nervous smile.

Ryan looked at his chest, eyes clearly running over the marks, the fading bruising, an odd expression of pride and attraction on his face, before looking back up at him.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ryan shrugged. “You’re not the only one with scars.”

_That_ was surprising. Jeremy barely noted the slight change in vocal quality, the slightly lower register. He instead smiled up at him and reached out to tug at the taller mans shirt.

“Do _I_ get to see?” He asked. “Gavin did ask to know how you looked without a shirt on.”

“Right,” Ryan smiled, undoing a couple of buttons, “because _you_ haven’t been undressing me with your eyes _at all_.” He tugged the shirt over his head and the warm reply died on Jeremy’s tongue.

He blinked.

Scars were _littered_ across Ryan’s torso. Up his arms, across his stomach, over his chest. There were two very clear GSW’s on his right shoulder and pec. Knife wounds. Shrapnel wounds. Jeremy blinked again and frowned.

“You said you were in IT.” He breathed.

“I did.” Ryan agreed, moving a step closer, Jeremy frozen to the spot. Alarm bells in the back of his head.

“Were you in the army, or something?” He added, focusing in on a jagged cut on the man’s left ribs, raised and red like it was fairly new.

“No.” Ryan assured him. Jeremy realised very suddenly his phone wasn’t in his pocket, he didn’t remember putting it down anywhere. He looked up to meets Ryans cool blue gaze and tried to figure out what the _fuck…_

“Then how-” he started before Ryan cut him off, his gleeful smile going almost manic.

“How do you _think_ , Officer Dooley?” He asked.

The familiarity of the voice, worsening with the lowering of his register, the sense of his height, his cold blue eyes and the way he’d just addressed him.

Realisation smashed into Jeremy so hard he took a step backwards, panic and adrenaline flooding into him, and he glanced at his bottom bedside drawer, where his sidearm was locked and then looked hard at Ryan’s face.

“Va-”

He didn’t get through the word.

Vagabond launched himself forward at him, slamming into him and taking him off his feet and backwards, landing him on the bed. Jeremy kicked up quickly, rolling them and taking them to the floor.

Jeremy struggled backwards, trying to get free of the hands grabbing at him, caught on the knee by a foot. He went down, hard, scrambling backwards as Ryan stood over him. He moved quickly to his feet, barely getting his hands up to guard against a blow to the jaw, taking it on his arm instead, still staggering under the weight.

Jeremy moved with the blow, darting towards the drawer where his gun was, cut short by a yank to his waistband, hauled backwards and shoved down onto the bed. Jeremy rolled and tried to move away as the Vagabond threw himself on top of him. Jeremy’s knees just off the side of the bed, and Vagabond sitting heavily over his diaphragm and pushing one hand over his mouth.

Jeremy instantly struggled, feet pressing into the mattress to try and work his way out from under him, hands trying to free his mouth. He knew he was panicking, knew he was wasting energy. Vagabonds cold blue eyes just watched him struggle for a long moment, waiting until Jeremy had to remind himself to breathe, remind himself to calm down. To think.

Ryan – The Vagabond – was smiling down at him. Patient. Almost warm. Jeremy could feel his heart beat, echoing through his body as it slammed blood through him, burning energy and air like he was running a marathon.

Vagabond was calm in comparison, the steady rise and fall of his naked, scarred chest was even and rhythmic. He looked so starkly different without the jacket. Looked smaller without the mask. Jeremy hadn’t really given much thought to how he looked behind it and was mad as hell that he was so fucking handsome.

Could have been a model. But no. Had to be a murdering psychopath instead.

“Really thought you’d recognised me for a second in the bar.” Ryan admitted evenly. “Should’ve known your dick would be making decisions for you. Surprised you didn’t recognise Montague, though.”

The man Ryan had been sitting with. He’d shaved. Cut his hair.

“He cleans up nice, right?” Ryan added with a laugh, shifting slightly, pulling a phone out of his pocket. Jeremy realised with a jolt that it was _his_ phone. “Nice of your friend to point you out.” He added. “Didn’t even realise you were there until the twink hit on me. I’m a little out of his league, don’t you think?” Ryan smiled slightly at his own joke, trying a few different passcodes. Jeremy tried to think of a way out of this. He didn’t have a landline, of course. Couldn’t currently yell for help and terrified that, if he did, Ryan would kill whoever came as well.

“And then you lived _so close_ to the bar.” Ryan laughed. “Oh, Officer, what a perfect little shit storm you’ve made for yourself.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Jeremy’s eyes were watering from the weight and the breathing and the panic. He felt a tear slide down the side of his face as he blinked. Vagabond didn’t seem to be paying that much attention, still fucking around with his phone.

“And of course, because you’re you, you were _very_ easy to get into bed.” The man added. “Very ready to get some random man at a bar to fuck you,” Ryan looked at him again, “I did seriously consider dragging you into the toilet and fucking you against the door.” He added. “A few yards away from your friends, not able to call for help.” The manic smile on his face shook Jeremy to his core. He wasn’t sure if this current situation was better.

“But then, I really wanted to take my time.” Ryan added thoughtfully. _Definitely not better._ “See _how_ _far_ I could get. And honestly? I think I could have gone further. Think you would have recognised the feel of my dick?” He asked. Jeremy had no idea. Didn’t want to think about it. “Think I could have made you cum before you figured it out?” He pressed, leaning more weight into his face, fingers digging into his cheeks painfully. “Probably.” Ryan concluded, volume dropping slightly. “You’re always so ready to cum for me.”

Jeremy did not need this in his life right now. He did not need to be raped and probably murdered in his own home while his friends thought he was getting lucky.

He did not need to be reminded of his fucked up danger kink, apparently very ready to respond to Vagabonds rough voice, strong hands and the threat of death or serious damage. Last time Jeremy had ended up with a broken rib and stab wounds. This time…

The fact that he was unarmed was good, on one hand, and on the other… Fuck. He felt even worse. The Vagabond didn’t need a weapon to hurt him.

Or kill him.

Vagabond tossed his phone across the bed, Jeremy listened to it land on the carpet beyond. Then looked at Jeremy very seriously.

“You scream for help,” Ryan told him, “and I’m going to kill anyone that comes through that door. And then whichever neighbour calls it in.”

Great. This was going well. Jeremy could feel ice spreading through his chest, contrasting with how warm he’d been up until now. The heat from flirting with Ryan, from being kissed and feeling…

God. He was in his own home.

Vagabond knew where he lived now.

So if Jeremy made it out of this alive…

No, he’d seen the Vagabonds face. No way known he was making it out alive.

He really needed his dick to give him a break right now. Needed it to back off for three seconds so the icy terror in his chest could properly set his brain to the fact that Vagabond was going to kill him. Vagabond seemed happy enough with his threat, and peeled his hand away from Jeremy’s mouth. The man leaned back carefully, watching him as if thinking Jeremy might try to fight his way out.

Now was not his moment.

“Still not going to beg for me?” Ryan pressed with a smile.

“You changed your policy on listening?” Jeremy replied heatedly, twisting under him slightly, trying to push away a little.

“Never know until you try.” The man encouraged.

“I’m not going to beg.” Jeremy said firmly, glaring at him, trying to quell the fear and bile in his throat, trying to let his anger and frustration show.

“We’ll see.” Vagabond said quietly, reaching down, moving back a little to touch the raised red scar on his ribs, where the knife had separated a few inches of skin from his ribs a few weeks ago. He pressed his fingers into the healing flesh. It didn’t hurt, but Jeremy flinched anyway. “Injured at work,” he breathed, “you weren’t though. You were off duty.”

Jeremy didn’t reply, resisting the urge to knock the hand away.

“And you don’t work in IT.” Jeremy countered.

“You don’t know that.” Ryan laughed. “I might be a perfectly mild mannered office worker.”

Jeremy seriously doubted that, but didn’t admit it out loud. He didn’t know why they were still conversing, wondering why the hell the man wasn’t moving yet.

“Tell me something, pig,” Vagabond went on quietly, “you tell them I made you come all over your squad car?”

Jeremy felt his face flush deep red. Heat prickling over his face and into his eyes. He jumped at the touch of a hand to his neck, slowly pressing forward to hold him under the jaw. Not hard, just… suggesting. Reminding him that Ryan could choke him right now. A pointed look from Vagabond.

“No.” Jeremy breathed.

“Did you tell them I did more than stab you at the bank?” He asked. “You tell them I fucked you till you came for me? More than once?” He leaned down a little, pushing his neck slightly into the bed. Not enough to hurt or hinder his breathing though. “You tell them what I taste like? Tell them to get a sample from your ass?”

Jeremy could feel his breathing moving passed the hand on his throat. Felt himself swallow over the pressure. He blinked a few times, trying to focus.

“No.” He answered.

“I left scratch marks all over your back, Dooley.” Ryan pointed out. “How did you explain that?”

Jeremy shook his head slightly, not quite able to verbalise that he’d suggested it was from being thrown against a table and chairs. The doctors hadn’t argued.

“How did you explain your DNA all over the crime scene?” He added.

Jeremy didn’t know. Was quite sure that the CSI guys had omitted any evidence that connected back to him apart from blood. Bragg had his back that way.

“They must be desperate to know.” Vagabond said. “Must be real interested to understand how you’ve managed to get me to let you live twice.”

_Didn’t matter now, did it?_ Jeremy thought to himself bitterly.

“Think they’re going to react well to the fact you’re _still so fucking hard for me_?” He hissed, moving slightly to grind against his groin and Jeremy really fucking hated this asshole. Hated him even more now that he knew what he looked like. Hated the fact he was still hard in his jeans. Full of adrenaline and alcohol and anger. Ryan was leaning down, their faces barely a hand span apart.

“Think they’re going to like the fact you liked me so much you brought me home to fuck?” He asked. Jeremy didn’t have time to register the suggestion that this _might_ not end in death before Ryan was kissing him again and _shit, shit, shit…_

Jeremy responded, reaching hands up on instinct, holding one thick bicep and wrapping his other around him, hauling himself upward into his chest.

He could _feel_ Ryan smiling through the kiss and he was fucking furious about it. How good it felt, how fucking pleased Vagabond was with himself.

Jeremy let his hand press down his side until he felt the belt on Ryan’s slacks, grinding upwards into the man. He ignored how good it felt to press his cock upward into the ass sitting on him and focused. His fingertips found the top of the phone in his front pocket and he was almost good to get it before Vagabond grabbed a wrist and wrenched his hand away.

They paused, Ryan not moving his head away, speaking against his mouth.

“You trying to distract me, Officer?” He growled. Jeremy shrugged, breathless.

“Of course not.” He replied dryly.

“You would never.” Ryan agreed lightly, letting his hand go and removing his phone to toss it away. “Good thing, too. Because you went for the wrong thing.” He added. Then there was a knife in his hand, flashing in the corner of Jeremy’s eye in the split second before it was hard against his throat. Jeremy flinching away in slow motion, a sharp intake of breath before he managed to slow and control his air.

The cold steel stung against his hot skin, Jeremy flexing back into the bed to try and lessen the pressure of the blade against his jugular.

He could hear his heart beating in his ears.

Where the fuck had the knife come from?

“Let’s not make a mess so early.” Ryan said, moving back slightly. “Up.” He encouraged, moving back, pulling Jeremy to sit while maintaining pressure on his throat.

Ryan stood in front of him and looked pointedly at the bottom drawer.

“Open it.” He instructed, relaxing the knife away a little. Jeremy leaned down, moving around the knife as he did so, and pressed his thumb into the sensor on the edge of the drawer. It clicked open just as Ryan yanked him back to sit on the edge of the bed with a rough hand, the knife was gone, and then opened the drawer with a toe.

Jeremy’s service firearm sat, fully loaded and ready to fire, nestled into its spot, three spare magazines next to it. Ryan moved slightly so that Jeremy would have to go through him to get to the weapon. Not that Jeremy was dumb enough to try.

Without letting go of him the Vagabond dropped a knee to pick up his weapon, tilting it slightly to inspect it as he went. He stood, moving it to his right hand as he did so. Jeremy heard the safety click off next to his ear and he flinched at the sound. He stopped breathing for a few seconds.

Ryan chuckled.

“You look after your equipment.” Ryan said, the weapon now next to his head, his hand resting on his shoulder as the man leaned over him a little.

Jeremy didn’t reply, trying to focus on breathing, on staying still, on watching the movements of Ryan’s body in case the man afforded him an opportunity. Ryan moved back a little, shifting to press the weapon against his throat, just under his chin. Jeremy fought to keep his hands by his sides, struggled to keep his breathing slow and even.

He looked up at Vagabond, trying to figure out where this was going, how desperate he needed to be.

Ryan was smiling. Not at him, just smiling as if he were having a good time. The weapon moved against his skin, dragging lightly up and over his chin.

“I assume you keep your weapon loaded, by the weight.” He said as he moved slowly. Jeremy nodded slightly out of reflex agreement. “Good, open your mouth.” The muzzle of the gun stopped at his lips, still warm from making out with Ryan, Jeremy clamped his jaw shut and met Ryan’s blue eyes. He could smell the metal and gunpowder and oil.

It did not take a genius to figure out where this was going. Jeremy took a steady breath, closing his eyes for a second.

“Look at me.” Ryan ordered. Jeremy opened his eyes, tilting his head up. He realised he was almost shaking. Could feel his heart beating.

“I’m not going to shoot you.” Ryan told him, almost gently. “But if _you_ don’t open your mouth for me _I am_ going to make you.” Something glinted in his eyes. “You don’t want me to make you, Jeremy.”

Jeremy almost flinched at his own name. It was the first time Vagabond had referred to him that way. He’d used it low, almost like a threat. A sultry, suggestive, threat.

God he was so fucking hard right now.

He hesitated, glancing up again at Ryan’s calm face and then down to his arm. Most of the weapon was just out of focus without going cross eyed, so he didn’t bother trying to look at it. He already knew Vagabond had a finger on the trigger.

He relaxed his jaw, letting his lips part, and the air immediately tasted like gun oil. He felt the weapon move, twist sideways, and Ryan pressed forwards.

He had to open his mouth wider, or the edges of the gun would take out his teeth, Jeremy very much doubting that Ryan would stop because of a broken tooth. The muzzle slid into his mouth, the edges hard against his tongue and top palate. His hand flicked up out of instinct to wrap around the barrel of the gun, moving back a little to stop it from penetrating too far. His other hand pressed into the bed just behind him, stabilising him, keeping him upright.

Ryan clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Come on, Officer.” Ryan said, voice low in the quiet room. He reached forward with his other hand to wrap around the back of his neck. “I know you love something hard in your mouth.”

Jeremy closed his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose. Remembering Vagabond fucking his mouth at the bank. Remembering how hard he was afterwards. During.

How hard he was now.

With a loaded fucking weapon in his mouth.

“So, move like you mean it.”

Jeremy could feel his heart pounding against the metal, hear his heart beat almost echo around the room. The steel warming inside his mouth quickly, the taste of gunshot residue and oil overpowering his senses. He could feel his eyes start to water at the effort of just having it sit on his tongue.

But Jeremy moved, firmed his grip around the barrel to guide his mouth, licking around the metal to make it wet with saliva, and sucked the weapon deeper into his mouth. Only just deeper, there wasn’t far to go.

He felt the sight of the gun touch his cheek, felt it move as he pulled away.

Jeremy realised with a jolt that he could _tell_ how hard Vagabond was in his slacks. His cock was pressing against his zipper, bulging in his pants and really, Jeremy should not have been surprised.

Ryan was looking down at him, one had still around the back of his neck, a look of maniacal glee in his eyes as Jeremy blew his own service pistol.

“Think they’d put it down as a suicide if I fired right now?” He asked.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

Looking up at Ryan was _not_ better. Shit Jeremy was hard. He did not want to be. The fact he was so aroused was obviously amusing to the Vagabond, and Jeremy knew that it was keeping him alive.

But he really didn’t know if it was worth it.

“Wonder how they’d explain the hard on.” He added with a grin. “Think they’d write it up as a kink thing? Gun went off while you were blowing it?”

Jeremy’s body twitched, a pulse of _something_ sinking into his bones. His jaw was starting to ache at the unnatural intrusion, his lips were getting dry, sticking at points to the gun as it moved in and out of his mouth.

Ryan’s grip tightened on him, slowed him until he was still, the gun almost triggering his gag reflex. The he moved away a little, keeping the gun in his mouth still as the man leaned back and knelt onto one knee, opening the top drawer beside him and then the second.

Inside it was lube and condoms, next to his box of Advil and a few other things. He picked up the tube and closed the drawer again.

“I bet I’d find a whole box of toys if I went looking.” Vagabond smiled. Jeremy wasn’t in a position to agree, pointedly didn’t look up at his wardrobe. Where he kept said box.

Ryan stood, pulling the weapon out of Jeremy’s mouth and pressing the muzzle back against his throat. Jeremy gulped in a few breaths of untainted air, swallowing a few times to try and normalise the taste in his mouth, he let go of the barrel of the weapon, leaning back a little.

“Pants.” Ryan ordered, his voice dark with lust. “Then up on the bed for me.”

Jeremy hesitated, glaring at the man for a moment, recalling vividly that he’d been stabbed the last time he’d hesitated over this order. He hated that he obliged, undoing his jeans and leaning back to wriggle them off his ass. He kicked them free of his legs and then moved back further onto the bed, internally cursing himself.

Ryan, while keeping the weapon level at Jeremy’s chest, one handedly opened his own belt and fly, shoving the pants over his hips, boxers with them, and stepped out of them. Jeremy couldn’t help but look. Not because of the scars across his thighs. Not because of the hard cock standing to attention between them.

But because of the straps around his hips, around his thigh. Ryan unclipped them as well, swinging them free. At the back of the harness were four knives, in sheathes, that Ryan had had hidden under his shirt and pants.

He dropped them to the floor.

No wonder it seemed like Vagabond produced knives from nowhere.

The tube of lubricant landed next to his knee. Jeremy looked at it and then up at Ryan as the man moved onto the bed. The muzzle of the gun touched his shoulder, pushing slightly. Ryan pressing him down until he was sitting, almost laying, against the pillow. Then the weapon was used to move his knee, Jeremy complying silently as he opened his legs.

“Quiet today, Officer.” Ryan noted. “Scared?”

Jeremy felt the heat in his glare as he looked up at the man. He really wished he could argue the point, but he was fucking terrified. Ryan laughed as he shifted on the bed to kneel between Jeremy’s legs.

“How did your weapon taste?” Ryan pressed. Jeremy took a breath.

“Like I used too much oil.” He replied, voice cracking only slightly. Ryan made an agreeing motion with his head.

“Rookies always do.” He said, moving the weapon, sliding it along his inner thigh slowly. “Not going to go for the gun?”

“No.” Jeremy told him.

“Why not? Probably fast enough.”

“Because I think you’d fire as soon as I made any sudden moves.” Jeremy reasoned, knowing that he wasn’t wrong.

“Oh?” Ryan smiled broadly, pressing the weapon into his testicles. Jeremy flinched, let out a long breath, cussing a few times as he did so. The weapon was warm from his mouth still, the saliva already dry as it pressed upward into his groin. It pressed almost to the point of pain, obvious discomfort jolting though Jeremy, tingling along his cock and tensing across his abdomen.

“ _Fuck_.” Jeremy breathed.

“And what would I do then, if I fired, Dooley?” Ryan pressed calmly. Like he wasn’t sat, naked, between his legs pressing a gun into his balls.

“I dun…” Jeremy took a shaking breath. “Fuck the hole, probably?”

The _pulse_ that went through Vagabonds body was fucking _visible_. The man breathed out through pursed lips, his cock twitching at the edge of Jeremy’s view, and the darkness in his eyes deepened. His focus narrowed in.

“Only a nine mil.” He replied quietly. “Not big enough.”

Jeremy groaned at the back of his throat, really not pleased to learn that Vagabond had been fucking _thinking_ about the possibility, eschewed only because of the size of the round.

“Like you’d care.” Jeremy bit out in reply, earning a painful shove from the gun.

“If you don’t separate the muscle enough,” Vagabond explained calmly, “they tense. It hurts.”

“ _Jesus fucking Christ_.” Jeremy muttered under his breath, knowing his wide eyed stare probably made him look terrified. The gun in his groin moved, pressing lightly in a circle.

“Speaking of which.” Ryan nodded at the tube of lube on the bed. “Prep yourself for me.”

“What?” Jeremy frowned, responding before he’d thought about it. Confused as to why he wanted Jeremy to prep _at all_.

“I can go in dry, if you want.” Ryan shrugged. “Up to you.”

Jeremy stared at the man for a long moment. He didn’t want to comply. He also didn’t want Ryan to dry fuck him. Or shoot him a few times just to make a hole big enough for his dick.

_Jesus Christ_ his line of thinking was fucked up right now.

He had to twist to grab the lube, had to shuffle down the pillow a little to get into a good position. Ryan let him do so, the weapon still touching his groin. He lubed up two fingers and lifted his hips slightly to get to his ass.

The lube was cold and the position was awkward, but Jeremy groaned as he pressed a finger inside himself. He knew Ryan was watching him intently, but didn’t dare to look up right now. Shame flushing through him and would this _fucking hard on go away already_?

It wasn’t helped by his work, quickly warming himself to the point of pressing two fingers inside, not able to fuck them deeply because of the angle of his arm. The pressure sending waves of pleasure along his cock as he moved. His arm was almost immediately uncomfortable, but he didn’t dare try to switch hands or positions right now. Ryan watching him like a hawk tracking its prey.

Then a hand grabbed his wrist, Jeremy freezing at the grip, and pulled his fingers free. His hole suddenly, almost uncomfortably, empty.

“Hands on the headboard.” Ryan ordered softly. Jeremy complied in parts, hesitating a couple of times, knowing he had to or he was getting hurt. He splayed his hands on the head of the bed.

Ryan gripped his cock with one hand and Jeremy bit down on a moan that tried to escape. The muzzle pulled away and touched again and dragged lightly up the bottom of his shaft.

A shiver went through him, chills along his spine.

“ _Holy fuckin…_ ” Jeremy breathed. He heard Ryan laugh.

“Gold star, pig.” Ryan told him. “Hard _and_ ready for me.”

He felt the weapon trail back down again, slowly pressing down the length of his dick.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asked.

“No.” Jeremy bit out quickly, trying to sound like he meant it. A chuckle.

“No?” Ryan laughed. “You brought me here to fuck you.” He pointed out. The weapon started sliding over his testicles again.

“You’re…” Jeremy struggled for a breath. “You’re the one who came back for more.”

“True.” The man agreed. “But only because,” the muzzle of the gun did not stop as it moved passed his balls, “when I do shit like _this,_ ” he pressed the gun hard against Jeremy’s anus. Jeremy reacted out of instinct, realisation slapping him, hard, and adrenaline surging through him. One hand moving off the headboard to try and stop him, hips lifting to try and get away.

“Ah!” Ryan snarled, Jeremy freezing in response. “Hands.” He warned. “Or I _will_ fire, pig, and I promise I’ll fuck the hole then.”

Jeremy’s chest was heaving with air, with effort of staying still and calm, hand slamming back above his head, shaking with the effort. Ryans hand started moving along his cock, softly jacking him off as pressure increased on the weapon.

“When I do shit like this,” Ryan went on, pressing the weapon against his hole, “you’re still hard as _fuck_ , Dooley.”

He could feel the sight against the edge of his ass. Blunt pressure and pain starting to invade around his hole as Ryan tried to force the fully loaded gun inside him.

Jeremy blinked and felt a tear run down his face from the stress. Eyes watering with the pure effort of keeping his breath going, of trying to stay where he was, let Vagabond do this to him.

Jeremy snarled with pain, swearing at the roof, as the gun pressed inside him, the sight tearing at the ring of muscles as it pushed in. The shape was wrong, longer than it was wide, his hole clenching around it. Pain snarled up through his back, shaking though him. The feeling of the sight lessened as it moved inside him, the gun pressing forward until it was buried in his ass.

The hand on his cock was still moving, jacking him slowly, lightly, as if it was an afterthought.

The gun was heavy, uncomfortable inside him, pressure in the wrong places, hard in the wrong way. Every movement of muscle around it pulsed through Jeremy and into his groin, heated him from the inside out and he groaned through his teeth.

God he wanted to cum.

“There’s a loaded weapon in your ass, Dooley.” Ryan pointed out viciously. “Think they’d keep you on the force if they knew how fucking _hard_ you were for it?”

“I’m-” he couldn’t breathe. “I’m not the only… one.”

Laughter.

“I’m _meant_ to be fucked up, pig.” He pointed out. “You’re meant to be _normal_.” The weapon moved inside him and Jeremy tensed against it, clenching down, waves of pleasure and pain and fear radiating through him.

“ _Fuck_.” Jeremy managed. The grip on his cock firmed as it moved, like Ryan was trying to get him to orgasm with a gun inside him.

“People trust you.” Ryan went on. “Rely on you. Expect you to be _professional_.” He laughed. “You’re going to cum all over yourself in a few seconds, your service weapon trigger deep inside you, a hitman jacking you off.”

Jeremy groaned, grinding his teeth and flexing on the bed, the gun moved again slightly and ripples of pleasure wiped through him.

“You’re in the wrong profession for that.” Vagabond added with a sneer. “I could change that.” He offered. “Find you a room full of people like me.” His grip squeezed down on his cock, the gun shoving back inside him. A flash of pain and a tingle of pleasure ripping a moan out of his throat. “Fuck you any way they want, line up and take turns. Use you like a masochistic little flesh light.” Ryan paused to breathe as he worked Jeremy’s leaking cock. “You’d fucking love it.”

Jeremy had no idea, at this point, in all honestly. His mind was so thick with _need_ right now he barely understood what the man was saying. He could barely breathe. But the idea sat in his brain and burned into his mind and _fucking shit_ he needed to come. He groaned with it.

“Not gonna do that, though.” Ryan assured him, sounding closer, as if he were leaning down. “Because your ass is _mine,_ Dooley.” He growled. “I fucking _own it_. So, be a good little pig bitch and come for me.”

He did so.

Jeremy moaned in the back of his throat as his vision swam out of focus, orgasm racing through him, pressure filling him up and leaving him all at once, pulsing through his cock and abdomen and legs.

He hissed as the gun was pulled from inside him, slamming him back down to earth before he was even breathing again, a stinging sensation tearing into the skin around his hole.

“Argh,” he snarled as soon as he managed air, “fuck-”

There was a thud on the carpet that Jeremy assumed was the gun. Hands holding his hips steady as Ryan moved between his legs, lifting him easily so he could line his cock up against him. Jeremy’s hands were still hard against the headboard, like he needed the support to stay conscious.

So when Ryan fucked into him, pain ripping through him, Jeremy could reply by digging his nails into the wood.

The world became painfully clear as his vision sharpened, clarity hitting him as damage announced itself. His mouth and throat were aching, his ass was sore, pain jolting him with every roll of Vagabonds hips.

The man leaned down over him, revelling in Jeremy’s sounds of pain and discomfort. Jeremy went to say something poisonous, snarl at the man as his mind centered on the pain making itself apparent throughout his body.

Vagabond pressed a hand over his mouth before he could do so, leaning his weight through it to keep him silent. Digging his fingers into his face as he fucked into him, jolting him on the bed every time their hips met.

“Goddamn it.” The man breathed, closing his eyes.

He pressed into Jeremy, hard, stayed there for a few seconds, his breath stopping short as he leaned down slightly. His body pulsing as he came into Jeremy’s ass in the silence of his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan had a tough day at work. 
> 
> Luckily he has a good way to cool down.

Jeremy loved long showers. He knew full well that it wasn’t good for the environment or whatever. It used water and electricity and he knew he was paying for that. But he fucking loved them.

Especially after the week he’d had. Vagabond had fucked over his weekend on Friday night and Jeremy had spent most of Saturday on the floor of his shower trying to figure out what the fuck to do that didn’t involve getting himself or his friends killed. He’d gone to the bar, talked Joe into letting him see the security tapes. There was no trace of Vagabond on them. As if he’d smartly moved in between camera angles like he’d known where they were. The bartender that had been on hadn’t checked ID’s so knowing the civvie name was a wash.

That left Jeremy the option of telling LSPD that he knew what Vagabond looked like, how he knew and then having to fill them in on everything in between to even hope to qualify for witness protection. Or, possibly, federal prison.

But that wouldn’t protect the others. Michael and Gavin had been at the bar, had glanced at Vagabonds face.

So he’d gone back to work and kept his fucking mouth shut. Like an idiot. And sure, it was dumb as fuck. Vagabond was definitely going to kill him at some point if he didn’t kill the man first.

But this wasn’t a kooky romance movie. There was no love story happening here. The was going to end with one of them dead and Vagabond had a way better track record than Jeremy did at killing people who threatened him.

He’d told Michael and Gavin as little detail as possible about his hook up, Gavin wanting to know if the man was as ripped as he’d suspected. Jeremy had remembered watching Vagabond pull his shirt off. Recalled the scars that laced his skin over muscles that were hard won with the years of violence Vagabond had survived in this city. The answer was yes. But, again, he’d left a few details out.

At some point during the week IA had dragged him down to HQ again to talk at him over a desk for an hour or two. ‘Finalising details’ they would keep telling him. Asking the same questions over and over again. Assuring him that anything he’d not told them was going to come back to bite him later.

They didn’t know the fucking half of it.

So Jeremy was using the hot water of the shower, the dulled noise of the bathroom and the thick taste of steam to try and relax. Try to forget, for five minutes, how incredibly fucked he was.

He needed a plan.

He had no idea what to do.

A noise pulled him from his thoughts and he frowned, looking around at the steamed glass door of the shower, at the empty bathroom. He wasn’t sure what he’d heard. If it had been from his bedroom or from next door. Usually it was arguing next door, but maybe they’d upgraded to noisy sex.

Just what he needed.

No more noise followed so he turned back to the shower, thinking dully that he should probably get out, when he could have _sworn_ he’d heard footsteps. He turned the water off quickly, looking at the bathroom door. His heart rate picked up as he pushed the shower door open, the cool air of the bathroom flooding in over his still damp skin. He didn’t care.

He’d changed his door locks, the thing was dead bolted and chained. All of his windows were double locked. The apartment building was only accessible with a key or by buzzing through and Jeremy hadn’t heard anyone buzz. For a moment he stayed still and quiet to listen to the eerie sounds of his silent apartment. He let out a breath he realised he was holding and swore quietly to himself, running a hand through his wet hair.

He needed to sleep.

Then the door to the bathroom swung open and Jeremy didn’t have the time to register details. He flinched backwards in the shower, swearing and freezing.

Because all he could see was blood.

The Vagabond was pulling his shirt off as he walked in, already naked – Jeremy caught a glance of the clothes strewn behind him on the floor – looking like he’d just walked out of a fucking horror movie. There was blood on his face as the man darted across the room, shoving Jeremy into the far wall of his shower, and pinning him there. An elbow to his neck, a thigh shoving into his groin and his other hand stopping the open hand blow Jeremy instinctively aimed for the guys nose. He slammed the wrist to the wall.

Jeremy didn’t know how the blood had gotten everywhere, considering the man normally wore a jacket and mask. The red was splashed up his neck and over his jaw, almost completely covering one eye. His hair was matted with red as it hung over his shoulder. Both arms were sprayed part red, and Jeremy hadn’t had time to detail the rest of the man, but he could almost feel the dried blood coming off onto his skin.

Jeremy struggled, swore at him and tried to twist free. Vagabond was silent and cut off his expletives by ducking his head and kissing him.

Jeremy almost had a fucking heart attack.

_What the fuck?_ He wanted to snarl at Ryan, knowing full well he wouldn’t get an answer. Vagabond did whatever he wanted, and apparently making out with Jeremy while covered in blood, after breaking into his house, was todays thing.

Jeremy didn’t know whose blood was now in his mouth, covering him, but the thought of it was disturbing. The metallic taste on his tongue almost overpowering the natural desire to kiss the man back. Almost.

Ryan moved against him, pressing impossibly harder into him with his body, his thigh moving against his dick. Jeremy growled in annoyance with how fucking easy he was to arouse. How fast he went from terrified to horny.

God he needed therapy.

His wrist was suddenly freed and he went back to two-handedly trying to shove the man away, trying to make some space between them. The larger man was unmoved though and, after a moment of fussing that Jeremy couldn’t pay much attention through while trying to breathe, he felt Ryans hand wrap around the cock shoved into his hip, warming himself up. Jeremy tore his face sideways, freeing his mouth.

“ _What the fu-_ ” He started to snarl, only for the man to cut him off by leaning back and down, one hand around his middle and the other under a thigh, and hauling him up the wall.

Jesus Christ.

He wrapped arms around Ryan’s neck out of instinct, not really wanting to be dropped on his ass today, and the man shoved back into him, pinning him to the wall with his weight to free one of his hands. Jeremy snarled in surprise when the hand moved between them, fingers pressing against his anus. They felt slick, Jeremy assumed (hoped) it was soap, as two pressed inside him. It was rough, sudden, but _fuck_ if it didn’t feel good. He growled with it, only to be shut up by another kiss pressed hungrily into his mouth. The two fingers fucking his hole awkwardly before adding a third.

Jeremy moaned into Vagabonds mouth, not quite ready for three but still confused as to why he was even getting any and not dumb enough to argue about it at this point.

Ryan twisted against him as he shoved three fingers inside him for a moment, the position making it awkward as hell, before the man pulled away slightly. He changed his grip, holding Jeremy up by the thighs, pulling his legs up and apart slightly and thank _fuck_ Jeremy was flexible or this would be real fucking uncomfortable.

Ryan’s cock pressed against him, the man taking his time about it, pushing upward to enter him. Jeremy dazed himself yanking his head backwards, pressing it against the wall of the shower, growling with the stretch he was only _just_ ready for. Hot pressure curled through his ass, around his abdomen, shaking him against the wall.

“Oh, shit.” He growled at the roof, Ryan leaning his head into the wall next to him. A satisfied sigh next to his ear as the man bottomed out inside him.

For a minute there was no sound except for their breathing, Jeremy struggling for air around his adrenaline. Ryan’s breath sounding like he was trying to control it. Then he started moving, pressing Jeremy into the wall with his weight, with the grip on his legs, rolling his hips into him. Slow at first, but gathering into a more familiar pace. His thrusts short but hard, Jeremy reacting to each one like he’d been programmed to.

Jeremy pressed his hands into the other mans shoulder, ignoring the blood he knew was there, trying to stabilise himself on something.

Ryan pressed their mouths together again, the tang of blood rushing back into Jeremy’s awareness, in a broken, messy kiss. It devolved to mostly breathing into each other’s mouths, the concentration mostly going to keeping Jeremy upright on the wall, meeting Vagabonds thrusts with his hips as much as he could while pinned. A lot of it going to the building need in his groin and stomach and chest.

He was tensing on the wall, flexing into Ryan, barely moments later. Ignoring the back of his mind telling him how fucked up he was for responding this well to a known murderer. A cop killer. A rapist.

Right now he didn’t care. He fucking _needed_ to cum.

He coiled against the wall, nails digging into Ryan’s shoulders, snarling with part relief, part annoyance as he came. Clenching down on the cock inside him, Ryan shoving deep into him, pressing him hard against the wall with his own release.

Silence for a moment. Stillness as Jeremy shook with the after effects of the orgasm, muscles still pulsing around the length inside him. Then, as the glow faded a little, his annoyance moved back to the forefront of his mind. Along with his bad judgement.

“Rough day at work, honey?” He asked, speaking directly into the Vagabonds mouth. The man flinched backwards like he’d forgotten Jeremy was capable of speech and then let him go, moving his weight back and essentially dropping Jeremy.

He got his legs under him just enough to stop him from landing ass first, barely, hitting the shower floor, slipping and crashing into the wall sideways. Winding up sitting against the tiles awkwardly, blood on his hands and arms and chest from where Vagabond had pressed against him.

The man barely looked at him, shoving a foot into his hip as Jeremy moved to get back up, keeping him on the floor. He reached over and flicked the water back on.

He made a face and turned the temperature down before leaning his head forward into the spray.

The water turned red.

It flowed through his hair, as he pulled it free of the band keeping it back, over his shoulders and chest and down his legs, over Jeremy’s side and onto the tiles. The red water swirling around the drain before leaving tracks of blood residue on his shower floor.

Vagabond wasn’t injured, Jeremy noticed after a moment, watching in silence as Vagabond pressed fingers through his hair to start scrubbing the blood off his scalp. But he was bruised. Marks around his arms and against one side. There was a welted bruise around his neck, like someone had tried to hang the man. Bruising around his knee, as if it had been dislocated and put back in with a fucking baseball bat.

He looked like _shit_.

And he was all the more fucking terrifying for it. Exhausted as he was, eyes closed under the warm water, almost like he wanted to sleep, Jeremy felt like if he did the wrong thing right now Vagabond wouldn’t just let him struggle. Like he wouldn’t get away with anything. Like Vagabond didn’t have the energy to put up with him right now.

More like he’d get a snapped neck in response and Vagabond wouldn’t give a flying fuck about it.

So Jeremy stayed quiet on the floor, pinned down by Vagabond leaning his weight through his hip and thigh, and watched the man gradually scrub the _significant_ amount of blood off him.

Jeremy didn’t think any of it was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you were expecting some kind of story line or consistency scene to scene...
> 
> Lol, I've been away for a bit cos of reasons, hope you've been surviving in the wilds of AO3 :) 
> 
> Love all of you!

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh...
> 
> So there's a little more to the bank story that I'm thinking over before I post it. (cos... wow it got real dark and I'm not convinced y'all are into it) And there's the strong possibility there's more to this one, too. 
> 
> But, uh... I'm fighting with my minimal morality here.


End file.
